Well, this week, I learned… When I put together an oak full-size/twin bunkbed, I should find some other place for my son to be. I love my son, but it was a chore to put the bed together, while he ran
(and climbed) around. He had a knack of taking off with the bolts just when I needed them. And, he loved playing with his car–right under my feet.
I loved that he wanted to help in his own way, but I was constantly aware (and concerned) about his safety. I didn’t want him to get hurt!
At the same time, it was cute to watch him trying to hold a board up or hand me a bolt. At times, he just sat there and watched me put the bed together–wonderment in his eyes. He carried on a conversation with me (with words only he could mostly understand), but I could tell what he was getting at…
It’s kind of crazy that I can understand what my son is saying when his words probably sound a lot like an alien language–to anyone else. It’s as if we share our own Tardis.
Of course, through all that–the boy underfoot, the excited conversation, and the little helping hands–we had the “best of times.” It turns out: it can be fun putting a bunkbed together with your 2-year-old son. As long as they still have all their digits at the end of the project, all is well. It’s those times that will live in our memories for a lifetime.
Maybe, just maybe, putting a bunkbed together is a metaphor for what being a parent is all about. It can me maddening at times; but, in the end, it’s an awesome and fun adventure.